If Wishes Were Bowtruckles
by fyren galan
Summary: What do snakes know of love? Ask a Slytherin. Title based off Kamerreon's lovely drabble series. Ch. 48: Gregory Goyle/Lavender Brown
1. Part I: I

**Disclaimer: **J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.

**Author's Note: **This will be series of short drabbles; Part is canon, Part II is fanon. Pairings of Part I will be revealed in the final chapter.

**Warning: **alcoholism, angst

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part I: I_

Large pale hands grasped a smooth tumbler of brandy. He barely noticed the burn as he threw it back.

Lily's eyes burned him far more greatly than any liquid could.


	2. Part I: II

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part I: II_

He slunk along the back of the library, feeling like he was dishonoring his family. As the only heir to– well, it didn't matter anymore. The important thing was he shouldn't be sneaking around behind bookshelves to catch a glimpse of long blonde hair.

He took a deep breath, and strode up to her table. She looked up.

"Astoria," he acknowledged.


	3. Part I: III

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part I: III_

Her heart felt like it was being wrenched out of her chest as she watched him sit down next to _her_.

How could he? They had been so happy last year. She recalled watching the countryside fly by and stroking soft blond hair in her lap.

But that was all behind her now.

After all, how could a spot of darkness compare to radiant light?


	4. Part I: IV

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part I: IV_

He offered a chocolate muffin to the other boy wordlessly. A fleeting sparkle in normally dull eyes was his thanks. They didn't speak, hardly ever.

But they both knew they were best friends.


	5. Part I: V

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part I: V_

He slumped elegantly at the table, idly pretending to listen to Parkinson natter on about how Malfoy was ignoring her.

He didn't care. Not about any of them, at any rate. And he tried to pretend he didn't care about her.

He stretched lazily, and watched through slotted eyes as she left the table. Quietly, he got up, and left Parkinson to complain at the air.

He walked slowly down the hallway and froze at the sound of her voice.

His fire goddess was wrapped in the arms of a dark-skinned boy. He noted wistfully, from a distance it could've been him.

"Filthy blood-traitor," he whispered.


	6. Part I: VI

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part I: VI_

She only had one requirement in choosing a husband: he had to love the Dark as much as she did.

If she couldn't get the Dark Lord, she would get the next best thing.


	7. Part I: VII

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part I: VII_

He would follow his brother in just about everything. Not because he worshipped him or anything. He just didn't want to take the effort to make his own decisions.

When his brother was Sorted into Slytherin, he thought, _Why not?_

When his brother became a Death Eater, he shrugged and lazily bared his own arm.

But when his brother married that crazy Black bitch, he drew the line.

oOo

A/N: Yes, I realize his brother's name wouldn't come first in the Sorting.

Consider this one AU. :]


	8. Part I: VIII

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part I: VIII_

He looked at her appraisingly. She was young, disciplined, well-mannered, and docile. Every quality was perfect for the wife of a pureblood Lord.

She would make a gracious hostess and a wonderful mother to their future heir.

He nodded, and she curtsied and glided silently out of the room.

A frown marred his pristine features.

The only time he would have to look away from her would be in the bedroom.

It would be like making love to his sister.


	9. Part I: IX

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part I: IX_

He stared blankly at the charred door. Potter had just dumped him there and run off. It couldn't be possible; it just couldn't be. Only yesterday they were together, laughing at Goyle trying to fit an entire turkey into his mouth.

He squeezed his eyes shut and thought desperately, _This is a bad dream. Only a dream. I'll wake up, and he'll be standing there with that stupid smile of his._

He opened his eyes. He was looking at the blackened entrance to the Room of Requirement.

A large boy huddled next to him, heaving broken sobs.

He was really gone.


	10. Part I: X

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part I: X_

They were never separated. Most people thought they were a single entity. Yes, they did put up a united front in public.

But behind closed doors…

*

"Crucio."

His eyes lit up with happiness, and he laughed breathlessly.

His body twitched uncontrollably, and he attempted to get up from the floor.

He couldn't.

She smiled softly.

This was the real relationship that people didn't see.

She gave and he took.

It worked out perfectly.


	11. Part I: XI

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part I: XI_

He had served under his Lord all his life, just like his father had.

He had looked upon his Lord as his idol, just like his father had.

He had grovelled at his Lord's feet, just like his father had.

And his Lord had punished him, just like his father never had been.


	12. Part I: XII

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part I: XII_

He had always looked up to his brother.

Even when his brother went into Gryffindor; that was okay because his brother was his brother.

Even when he was Sorted into Slytherin, his brother still took care of him. Loved him. Protected him.

Even when he writhed on the floor, burning pain piercing his arm, he still worshipped his brother.

Even when his brother looked at him with loathing and called him "Death Eater scum," it was alright.

Because for the first time in his life, he was protecting his brother.

*

"_Join me or your brother dies…" _


	13. Part I: XIII

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part I: XIII_

He slowed down as he passed the Three Broomsticks. It seemed so warm and cheery inside as he pressed his nose to the window.

He was reminded of some story he had read when he was younger, before he knew he was a wizard. A boy in rags staring wistfully at a happy family eating a Christmas feast. He really was nothing but a poor orphan boy, he thought bitterly.

He wasn't looking longingly at the food, though. His eyes were glued covetously to the laughing, blushing girls who had sweet nothings whispered in their ears. How he dreamed of soft hands touching his, of long curls nestled against his shoulder.

He walked slowly away from the building, and stared blankly out at the bleak landscape outside of Hogsmeade.

He closed his eyes, and imagined what it would be like to hold someone tightly in his arms, if only for a moment.

And then he remembered.

His eyes opened and flashed crimson briefly.

He couldn't let anything or anyone get in the way of his plans.

He would be the greatest Dark Lord the world had ever seen, with or without love.

END OF PART I.

I: Lily Potter, née Evans/Severus Snape (one-sided)

II: Draco Malfoy/Astoria Greengrass

III: Draco Malfoy/Pansy Parkinson (one-sided)

IV: Vincent Crabbe/Gregory Goyle (friendship)

V: Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini (one-sided), Ginny Weasley/Dean Thomas

VI: Bellatrix Lestrange, née Black/Rodolphus Lestrange

VII: Rabastan Lestrange/Rodolphus Lestrange (sibling relationship)

VIII: Narcissa Malfoy, née Black/Lucius Malfoy

IX: Draco Malfoy/Vincent Crabbe (friendship)

X: Amycus Carrow/Alecto Carrow (sibling relationship)

XI: Avery/Lord Voldemort, Avery/Avery (father-son relationship)

XII: Regulus Black/Sirius Black (sibling relationship)

XIII: Tom Riddle Jr.

These were all in some way canon, or at least suggested in canon. Part II, however, will be entirely fanon, so give my pairings and prompts, if you so choose. Be aware that one or more of the member (s) in the pairing must be in Slytherin (or be a former Slytherin).


	14. Part II: I

**WARNING: inexplicit sex**

Pairing: Daphne Greengrass/Theodore Nott

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: I_

She was rather upset that he had bypassed her altogether for her younger sister. Affronted, she might say.

It was just because _she_ was blonde and delicate and beautiful. Everyone desired her. No one wanted the intelligent, ordinary-looking, dark older sister.

Even the weedy-looking boy who thrust into her every night would leave only one name hanging in the gloom.

"Astoria…"


	15. Part II: II

Pairing: Gregory Goyle/Ginny Weasley

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: II_

He had liked her since the start of his second year, when he first saw her. That old Professor that was a cat and not a cat called out her name. He savoured it, rolling it around deliciously on his tongue. It tasted better than the Feast itself.

All through the years, he followed a pale blond around who would insult his beloved. He ignored the petty fights, and instead focused on her wide blue eyes.

The "G's" still echoed in his head; they bounced in tempo with the shuffle of his feet.

He tried to talk to her once, but the first "guh" had sent him into raptures, and he was unable to speak.

When alone, he would say it softly to himself. "Guh and _Guh _Guh…"

After a time, he started to think of what it would sound like if they were married.

"Gun and Guh _Guh_…"

It was so beautiful.

oOo

A translation of Goyle-speak: he only says the first syllable of their names because he's entranced by the matching sound.

So for the first one, it's Ginervra and _Gregory_ Goyle (separate names).

The second is Ginervra and Gregory _Goyle_ (placing emphasis on the last name; they now share it).


	16. Part II: III

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

**WARNING: femmeslash**

Pairing: Astoria Greengrass/Pansy Parkinson

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: III_

She didn't like blonds. She didn't like Malfoys.

To clear that matter up, she didn't like males.

Her hand might've belonged to the pale haughty boy next to her, but her heart belonged to the dark-haired girl skulking in the shadows.


	17. Part II: IV

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

**WARNING: slash**

Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Theodore Nott

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: IV_

People thought Zabini and he were _so_ close.

It wasn't true. Zabini was like a cat; he pretended that you didn't own him, but everyone knew you did.

No, they weren't close. The one person he wished to own, to know, to keep was the only person out of his reach.

That scrawny, dark-haired boy that was too intelligent to be a follower, but acted dumb enough to stay out of the limelight.

Desire as thick as blood coursed in his veins.

He wanted him.


	18. Part II: V

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

Pairing: Marcus Flint/Millicent Bulstrode

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: V_

They thought that because he was big and dull-looking, that he was stupid. A tool for their plans. Muscle to stop their foes.

They didn't understand that he could think for himself, that if they asked him for help, they might actually win once in a while.

But that all changed the day he met her.

oOo

"Oi, you brute! How'd you get that 'O,' then? Did you sleep with Sinistra, or just threaten to kill her?"

"I'd choose the latter; he'd have to pay _her_ to sleep with him. I mean, not even a mother could love that face."

He stared blankly at the wall, running through the names of the constellations. He barely felt the spell that sent him tumbling backwards. Keep a lid on your temper, he reminded himself. He shut his eyes as the vicious pink and blond boy raised his wand again.

CRACK! He winced, but no pain was forthcoming. He opened his eyes warily. A plain heavy-set girl was standing triumphantly over the blond whimpering on the floor.

"Don't you touch him ever again," she hissed, and turned towards him. "Are you alright?"

"You're beautiful," he breathed.

She smiled.

oOo

A/N: I find this ironic because while I wrote Flint as intelligent, he was held back a year at Hogwarts. ^-^ Writer's prerogative, eh?


	19. Part II: VI

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

**WARNING: slash, sex with a minor, language**

Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Severus Snape

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: VI_

He really was good at Potions, no matter what people said.

He knew he would get an 'O' in the class; he was just fucking his Professor for a bit of...leverage.


	20. Part II: VII

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

**WARNING: slash **

Pairing: Blaise Zabini/Harry Potter (one-sided), Blaise Zabini/Ginny Weasley

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: VII_

Draco thought he was insane, but he was doing it for a reason. Merlin knew if he wouldn't do it if it wasn't necessary.

*

He winced as he heard his name being shrieked down the hallway. He carefully controlled his expression and turned around.

A red blur ran to him and clung tightly to his arm. It pouted, "Blaise! You never hear me when I call you the first time! I'm your girlfriend; you should pay more attention to me!"

Blaise ignored It and instead focused on the boy walking sedately towards him. He inclined his head and said quietly, "Potter."

A soft "Zabini" was his reply.

He stared intently at green eyes.

_Don't you see?_ he thought desperately. _I'm doing this for us. I wouldn't touch this thing if it didn't get me closer to you. I just want us to be together. I'll take that in any form I can get_.

*

Draco thought he was insane.

He was prone to agree.


	21. Part II: VIII

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

**WARNING: sex, infidelity, torture**

Pairing: Bellatrix Lestrange/Ted Tonks

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: VIII_

Most people never even wondered why she acted insane or why she hated Mudbloods. They just assumed it all had to do with her inbred ancestry and her pureblood upbringing.

Most people were wrong.

She had grown up quite tolerant of Mudbloods and had retained all of her mental facilities.

That had all changed, of course, once she had in her possession certain facts.

Mudbloods were fickle.

Mudbloods would worm their way into your heart, into your bed…

And then into your sister's the next night.

*

Which is why Bellatrix Lestrange took particular joy in killing Ted Tonks.

She would whisper sweet nothings in his ear one moment, and cut off one of his toes in the next.

But it was alright; she knew that he understood her rapidly changing moods.

After all, Mudbloods were fickle that way.


	22. Part II: IX

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

**WARNING: slash**

Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Pansy Parkinson (one-sided), Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: IX_

Blond hair drifted across her pillow. Dried tear tracks clung to high pureblood cheekbones. Grey eyes opened slowly and softened at the sight of her.

She held her breath, and unspoken wishes squeezed her heart.

He jumped out of bed, fully clothed, and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"I'm going to talk to Harry right now and I'm sure he'll understand. Thanks, Pans; you're the best!"

He left.

She stared blankly at the wall.

_I love you_.


	23. Part II: X

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

**WARNING: slash, relationship with a minor **

Pairing: Severus Snape/Blaise Zabini

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: X_

Severus tried to convince himself he wasn't a dirty old man.

He didn't succeed.

Severus tried to tell himself that he really did need an apprentice, as he mentally caressed skin darker than his own slightly greasy hair.

He couldn't lie to himself.

Severus tried to remind himself to wait at least two years. Two years. Fourteen to sixteen. Boy to man.

He didn't listen.


	24. Part II: XI

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

**WARNING: slash**

Pairing: Theodore Nott/Harry Potter

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XI_

He stared down at his lap distastefully.

"Potter," he said slowly. "What is this _thing_?"

Potter lazily raised his head from the pillow. "It's called a foot, Theo. Most people have at least one."

He snapped back, "I know it's a foot, Potter! I want to know what your foot is doing in my lap clothed in that horrendous fabric!"

Potter wiggled his foot leisurely. "It's called argyle. Gin gave them to me. I rather like it."

He wrinkled his nose and looked away. "Well, if a _Weasley_ gave it to you…"

A sigh, and the foot was removed from his lap and a head was placed on his shoulder.

Potter said quietly, "If you gave me socks I would wear them too, Theo."

He turned to face him. "I know, Potter."

Green eyes darkened. "It wouldn't hurt that much to call me 'Harry' sometimes."

Theo captured his lips languidly, gently, and then smiled down at him. "I know…Potter."


	25. Part II: XII

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

**WARNING: slash, sex, Megan won't like this. The rest of you might. **

Pairing: Surprise. ^-^

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XII_

"Mutt."

"Death Eater."

Blood trickled down his desk, his shoulder, his thighs. He flung his head back and felt familiar teeth close around his neck.

"Traitor."

"Same."

Pale fingers grabbed his hips bruisingly as the man inside him set a furious pace.

"G-Gryffindor!"

"Slytherin."

He slumped over, his legs barely holding him up. The hands on his hips were removed and the sounds of dressing filled the room.

He rested his head on a stack of essays he had yet to grade. Longing made him want to turn around, but regret held him in place.

Trousers were zipped up behind him, and he listened dully for the sound of footsteps.

A hesitation, and a kiss was placed gently at the base of his spine.

"I'm glad you're safe."

Severus whirled around, and watched Sirius Black walk out of the room.


	26. Part II: XIII

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

**WARNING: slash, half (?)-bestiality**

A/N: Draco Malfoy/Firenze for Beebee. I tried. ^-^

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XIII_

He knew his family would disown him for it. He could picture his father's disdainful sneer and his mother's sorrowful face.

"_Purebloods never align themselves with lesser creatures."_

"_Darling, we are above them and we must remain above them." _

He knew all of that.

He just didn't care.

He sifted his fingers through white-blond hair, and spoke quietly. "You know that I love you, yes?"

His hand was removed from silky hair and kissed gently.

"Venus is unusually bright tonight."

Draco smiled.


	27. Part II: XIV

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

**WARNING: slash, incest, inexplicit sex, language**

A/N: Lucius/Draco for Beebee. [INSERT PWETTY HEART HERE]

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XIV_

They called him narcissistic.

They sneered at him, "Fucking some who looked like your sister wasn't enough for you, hmm? You had to go and get a younger version of yourself, didn't you?"

They didn't know, though, that Draco really looked nothing like him.

His eyes were always slate grey, but Draco's were light blue when happy, charcoal when angry, and molten silver when they looked up at him, darkened with lust.

He always remained the same alabaster shade, whereas Draco's skin would flush slightly when writhing incoherently under him.

That's what Lucius knew and they didn't: in bed, they hardly resembled each other.


	28. Part II: XV

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

**WARNING: slash, character death**

A/N: Vincent Crabbe/Draco Malfoy (one-sided)

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XV_

As the fire consumed him, Vincent felt so very stupid.

The fire that Vincent had called forth was lapping hungrily at His skin. Not the Enemy. The boy that Vincent worshipped, followed, loved.

As He was pulled up by the Enemy, Vincent could only feel grateful.

His mistake had been rectified.


	29. Part II: XVI

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

**WARNING: slash, relationship with a minor**

A/N: Severus/Harry for Beebee. I'm not doing Ginny/Snape for you, sorry. ^-^

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XVI_

What do you fight for?

The question echoed in his mind. Memories flickered by, dulled by the poison rushing towards his heart.

What do you fight for?

He struggled to look at panicked green eyes, and to hang on to the body clutching him frantically.

What do you fight for?

"Severus…please don't leave me."

What do you fight for?

And he knew, in that moment.

He fought for life.

He fought for happiness.

He fought for tousled dark hair on his shoulder every morning.

He fought for love.

He coughed weakly, and murmured, "You'd get into too much trouble without me, brat. I can't leave you."


	30. Part II: XVII

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

For Beebee, who wanted Draco/Harry, and nine other pairings. I'm working on them, I swear. :]

**WARNING: slash, really bad innuendo**

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XVII_

"_Expelliarmus!_" Draco shouted, and for once, the damned spell worked in his favour. Potter panted, his hands on his knees, at the end of their duel.

Draco sneered at the thin piece of wood in his hand, and tossed it back to Potter. "What a big boy you are, Potter. Eleven inches isn't too much for you to handle, then?"

Potter caught it easily, and smirked at Draco. He stalked towards him, and Draco unconsciously took a step backwards. Potter practically _purred_, "I'll have you know, Malfoy, that this wand is very representative of my _other_ one."

Potter leered at him.

Draco licked his lips, and said faintly, "Is that so?"

Potter sashayed out the door (with a bit too much arse-wriggling to look natural, Draco thought), and threw a wink over his shoulder. "Why don't you come find out, _Draco_?"

Draco went.

oOo

A/N: Also, in case you cared, Draco's wand is ten inches.


	31. Part II: XVIII

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

For Beebee, I tried to make it as palatable as I possibly could. ^-^

**WARNING: underage preslash**

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XVIII_

He tensed up as he felt someone slip out of the alcove behind him. He didn't turn around, instead saying flatly, "Professor Dumbledore."

"One might think that you were too aware of your surroundings, Tom."

The young Lord Voldemort hissed at the one-sided familiarity, and felt a surge of loathing at the sound of his original name. _It won't be long_, he reminded himself,_ before anyone won't dare call you that._

He replied, "One might think it is improper for professors to sneak up on students…sir."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Goodness, Tom! What a fanciful mind you have! I wasn't sneaking up on you; I was merely seeing how your round was going."

Voldemort exhaled slowly. "Prefects were created so that teachers didn't have to do the rounds, sir."

A warm hand landed on his shoulder, and he felt puffs of breath near his left ear. Dumbledore whispered, "Perhaps I just wanted to see you."

oOo

A/N: I'm on a wand kick. Voldemort's is thirteen-and-a-half inches, and Dumbledore's is…well, the Elder Wand. Length doesn't really matter in that case. :]


	32. Part II: XIX

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

For Beebee, I said I wouldn't write it, but I did.

**WARNING: professor-student relationship**

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XIX_

He didn't love her.

He wasn't insane, either. Truly, he wasn't.

He was just…imaginative. Creative. Inventive.

He knew Lily was dead, but when the girl was here, he could pretend for a little while.

He could pretend to be happy.

oOo

Ginny sighed in utter contentment. She wriggled deeper into her lover's arms, and didn't notice how he turned his face away from her.

"I love you, Severus," she whispered, and shifted to look up at him.

He lightly fingered copper strands and replied, "I love your hair."

She smiled. He was just too shy to say it, but she knew he meant _I love you_.

oOo

The girl fell asleep. He looked down thoughtfully at her peaceful expression fanned by her flaming red hair.

_I love you, Lily_.

oOo

A/N: I can't write Ginny without being mean to her, even if she doesn't know it. :]


	33. Part II: XX

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

For Beebee, who is extremely strange. But I love you that way. :] Is this "strangely adorable, yet terrifying" enough for you?

**WARNING: slash, (?) bestiality, crack**

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XX_

The hairs on the back of his neck rose, and he tried to suppress a growl. Whirling around, he angrily scoured all the shadowy alcoves of the room.

"Creature! As much as you might think you're some sort of house-elf ninja, you're not! I know that you're here, and that Potter sent you to spy on me. So you might as well reveal yourself. It won't do much to save you by remaining invisible," Voldemort roared.

A small, green elf appeared, and stared up at him with its bulbous eyes. It whispered, "The Great Harry Potter was not to be sending me, oh no! Dobby came all by hisself!"

Voldemort blinked. "Why in Merlin's name would you want to come here?"

Dobby Vanished with a loud crack, and reappeared near Voldemort's ear. He breathed into it, "Dobby wants to tells you that Dobby finds the snakes sexy."

His tongue darted out to lap at the shell of Voldemort's ear, and then Dobby disappeared with a happy sigh.

Voldemort reached up dazedly to pat at his slightly wet earlobe. He scowled vaguely, and thought to himself, _Great. The only person in the world who finds me attractive is a house elf._


	34. Part II: XXI

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

For Beebee, who wanted Marcus/Firenze. Methinks thou dost have a centaur fetish. :]

**WARNING: slash, (?) half-bestiality**

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XXI_

Marcus wasn't in Hogwarts when the old fool hired a centaur for the first time. He had graduated well before that, and he knew that there was a slim-to-none chance that the two of them would ever meet.

Well, ever meet_ again_, that is. Marcus wouldn't really call the other time a "meeting," perchance; more like a "Hey, I was passing through the Forbidden Forest and I happened to see you wanking and I thought it was really hot even though you're a centaur" sort of thing.

That was an excellent name for it.

Nothing had ever happened, of course; Marcus doubted the centaur had even seen him.

Still, it didn't stop Marcus from wishing that he had gotten held back two more years. Divination always had been his worst subject, and he _knew_ he would've required extra lessons.


	35. Part II: XXII

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

For Beebee: consider this half of your birthday story. The cane will being coming later. :]

**WARNING: chan **

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XXII_

Lucius Malfoy stared impassively at the nude young man feebly struggling on his lap.

He showed almost no emotion; he would've almost looked bored, if not for the slight tremble in his right hand as he raised it.

He swung his hand down smoothly, and listened to the satisfying _thwack_ it made against Potter's reddened arse. Potter cried out breathlessly, and Lucius cruelly rubbed his leg against the lad's hard member.

Lucius laid his cool palm on the abused skin, and Potter half-sobbed. He leaned over to whisper in the boy's ear, "I am teaching you a very important lesson that will benefit you later in life, Mr. Potter. I promised that you would be punished if you did not give me the prophesy, and I am a Malfoy. Malfoys always keep their word. Remember that when we meet next."

Lucius removed his hand, and Potter scrambled off his lap. He panted and glared at Lucius, and Lucius noticed with a smirk, that it was rather hard to look menacing with a throbbing erection.

Potter growled, "Next time we meet, I'll kill you!"

He turned around, and Lucius admired the view for a split second before replying, "My, what a delightful parting shot, Mr. Potter. Here's mine!"

Potter stiffened, and Lucius noted that he bore the final spank admirably. He was _so_ looking forward to their next encounter.


	36. Part II: XXIII

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

For Desiqtie, who wanted Regulus Black/girl!Harry Potter/Sirius Black - "obsession"

**WARNING: threesome, language **

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XXIII_

Reclaiming his brother from the Dark Side had always been a small obsession of his. He had taken an old Time-Turner and experimented on it for months before getting it right. If Sirius had done the work correctly, the Time-Turner would take him back to just before Regulus had decided to become a Death Eater. His brother would be sixteen, innocent, and utterly delectable.

All right, so Sirius might have also had a little fixation with fucking his younger brother, but that was to be expected. Regulus was _hot_.

One thing he didn't expect, however, was that his godchild more-or-less had the same obsessions as he did.

It had all worked out, though.

As he watched Harriet and Regulus entwine their tongues while he lapped at a breast and palmed a cock, Sirius thought that it had more than worked out.

It had created their own happily ever after.


	37. Part II: XXIV

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

For Desiqtie, who wanted Regulus Black/Harry Potter/Sirius Black - "noble"

**WARNING: threesome, incest**

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XXIV_

Harry's breathing hitched as two pairs of hands ripped at his shirt. He gasped, "S-Sirius? Regulus? I'm not so s-sure that we should be doing _this_?!"

Regulus bit down on his collarbone and _sucked_, while Sirius mumbled into Harry's open trousers, "S'okay, Harry. You're a Black now. 'S a tradition of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."

Harry thought about for a bit, and then shrugged.

He pulled Sirius up to his level, and met him in an open-mouthed kiss, while twisting Regulus' nipple.

If it was a _tradition_…

oOo

A/N: All right: this is my first (second) time writing a threesome. Shall I continue, or would you consider this an Epic Fail?


	38. Part II: XXV

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

For Desiqtie, who wanted: "The whole idea of Bellatrix/Ted Tonks is

just...wow. If you ever decide to do a follow up to this one...how about one where Nymphadora finds out the truth :)!"

This is a follow-up to Part II: VIII.

**WARNING: character death, angst**

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XXV_

"You could've been my daughter, Nymphadora," she cooed.

Tonks dropped her wand in shock, and Bellatrix grinned maliciously.

"What?" she gasped in mock-surprise, "you didn't know? Your father and I had a bit of a fling growing up. Dear old Teddy…such a pity that he's dead now."

Tonks put a hand to her mouth, and shook her head violently. She shouted, "No! He's not dead! He's on the run from the Ministry and from people like _you_!"

Bellatrix gave a pitying frown. "Well, he didn't do a very good job of it, then. Poor man ran straight into our lair. I had to kill him. Have to keep up a reputation, y'know?"

Tonks fell to her knees, and sobbed. "N-no! It's not true! You're _lying_!"

She walked up to the pink-haired girl, and gently pulled her head back. Staring into Tonks' teary eyes, she said softly, viciously, "It's true. I killed him. And I'm going to kill you. Don't worry; I'll make it quick and painless. Not like his death. But then again, he wasn't family."

She laughed, bitterness filling her gaze. "No, he wasn't family. Nothing but a good-for-nothing, cheating _Mudblood_."

She smiled tenderly down at Tonks, and smoothed back her hair soothingly. She whispered, "Avada Kedavra."

The body in her grasp fell limp, and Bellatrix walked away.

She sighed heavily. _You could've been my daughter._


	39. Part II: XXVI

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing and I'll write it.

**WARNING: preslash, language, mention of abuse, AU**

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XXVI_

"_Boy!_" Vernon bellowed. "Snuggles pooed on the damn carpet again! Clean it up."

Harry muttered, "Clean up your own dog shite."

Vernon stilled, and looked hard at Harry. "Excuse me?" he asked disbelievingly.

Harry gathered his courage, and looked his uncle square in the face. "I said, clean up your own dog shite. Please."

His uncle turned a colour vaguely resembling that of an eggplant. Spittle flew from his mouth as he jeered, "Say it one more time, boy. You won't like my response, I'm warning you."

Harry laughed bitterly. "When have I ever liked your responses? They're all the same; I end up bloody and starved."

Vernon reared back, and roared, "Boy! I'm going to kill you!"

His meaty paw made a whistling arc through the air. Harry cringed, and closed his eyes.

Vernon's hand made a resounding smack against skin. But not Harry's.

He ventured to crack open an eye, and found Vernon frozen, purple and terrified. A tall man in an impressive swirling cloak held his uncle's fist in a seemingly loose grasp. The air around the man practically churned with power. Harry straightened slowly, and quietly said, "Thank you, sir."

The man hissed, without looking away from the cowering Vernon, "Where I come from, children are a precious commodity, especially those related by blood. Tell me, child; how old are you?"

Harry stuttered, "S-seven, sir."

The man's hold on his uncle tightened imperceptibly. However, his voice was even when he asked, "Would it bother you terribly to come live with me, Harry?"

Harry softly replied, "I don't think it would be too much of a hardship. I don't even have anything to pack."

The man growled in anger, and to Harry's amazement, jabbed a thin stick into Vernon's neck. "Consider yourself lucky this child is present today. Otherwise, you would not have need of your head."

A small puddle began forming at the front seam of Vernon's trousers. The man clenched his fist once, and reluctantly released Harry's uncle.

Harry said hesitantly, "Please, sir. Would you tell me your name?"

The blond man turned around, and smiled gently down at him. "You may call me Lucius."

oOo

A/N: Quite a filthy mouth Harry has, yeah? Don't worry; Lucius will put it to excellent use in about nine years. ^-^

You may be asking, how in the world did Lucius get through the blood wards at the exact moment that Harry needed him most?

-sighs dreamily- Through the power of true love, of course! It transcends all natural and magical boundaries! :]


	40. Part II: XXVII

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing (must have at least one Slytherin in it) and I'll write it.

**WARNING: threesome (MFM), AU, established relationship**

For Desiqtie, who wanted: Blaise Zabini/girl!Harry Potter/Sirius Black - "bedroom"

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XXVII_

Blaise looked around curiously as his girlfriend tugged him through the opulent manor. It was slightly more lavish than his own, but that was to be expected. The Blacks _were_ one of the richest families in the Wizarding World. They walked past a room full of heirlooms, including a shining tapestry which Blaise made a note to examine later, and went upstairs. She pulled him in front of an engraved wooden door, and motioned for him to open it. He turned the silver handle, and pushed the door open to find any girl's paradise. The centrepiece of the room was an ornately carved canopy bed swathed in batches of green and silver silk. He scanned the rest of the room, and asked, "This is where you grew up?"

She nodded happily. "This is my bedroom!"

A strong arm looped around his should, and a low voice husked in his ear, "And what good times we had in it, too."

He heard his girlfriend laugh as he turned around to see the man hugging her. "Sirius!" she protested, "You can't tell Blaise things like that! He'll get jealous."

Sirius chuckled, and glanced over at Blaise. "If I have my way, the lad won't have time to get jealous."

He drew Blaise into the hug, and their lips met in a searing kiss. His girlfriend pushed at his chest, and cried, "Don't leave me out of this!"

Sirius looked down at her affectionately. "Prongslet, would I ever leave you out of anything?"

He dragged the two of them by the hand to the bed, and said mischievously, "I do believe your bed has never had a threesome on top of it, Prongslet. Shall we rectify that immediately?"


	41. Part II: XXVIII

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing (must have at least one Slytherin in it) and I'll write it.

**WARNING: threesome, slash**

For Desiqtie, who wanted: Blaise Zabini/Harry Potter/Sirius Black - "victory"

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XXIX_

It was decisively a pureblood victory. A few blood-traitors (who weren't _really_ pureblood) and half-bloods had tried to get in the way a few times, but in the end, the purebloods won.

More specifically, Blaise Zabini and Sirius Black had won.

What did they win? A beautiful, enchanting, wondrous prize who was so much more than a prize.

Harry Potter.

At first, Harry didn't quite believe that Sirius and Blaise were genuine in their affections. Sirius was, after all, his godfather, and Blaise a Slytherin whom the times he had talked to could be counted on one hand. He fled from their admittedly over-zealous affections, and into the arms of first Ginny Weasley, then Seamus Finnegan.

Eventually, he could no longer fight the deep attraction that lay between the two purebloods and him. He surrendered hesitantly, but happily.

Gazing at the sleeping form between them, Sirius and Blaise thought it was more than just a victory.

It was a _triumph_.


	42. Part II: XXIX

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing (must have at least one Slytherin in it) and I'll write it.

**WARNING: slash, violence**

For vanzdaprincez, who wanted: Can you do Harry with any male where Harry is the more possessive/dom'ing?

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XXIX_

Draco sneered at the defiant boy, held spread-eagle against the wall by Crabbe and Goyle. "Did you really just think you could abandon the Dark Lord for your precious Golden Boy, Theo? Did you really think we'd let you get away with it?"

Nott had the _gall_ to smirk at him as he replied, "Do you ever tire of being left in the dark, Malfoy? How can you bear being so utterly stupid?"

Draco grew pale in his anger and spluttered, "Just you wait until Zabini gets here! We'll beat the mudblood loving out of you!"

A smooth voice drawled from behind him, "Zabini won't be able to make this lovely chat, sorry. He's rather intelligent, actually; not like I could say about _some_ people."

Draco turned around furiously, ready to kill anyone who dared besmirch his brilliance–

But he suddenly found himself clawing at his throat as a strong hand held him several centimetres above the ground. What little breath he had left quickly _whooshed _out of him as he was slammed against a wall. In the corner of his vision, he saw Crabbe and Goyle drop Theo rapidly and waddle down the corridor. Wrathful green eyes sparked up at him in the gloom as the grip tightened on his neck.

Potter hissed, "Did _you_ really just think I would let you get away with harming my mate? Did you really think that Voldemort would let you get away with harming his heir's mate?"

Draco's eyes bulged grotesquely as he gasped, "D-didn't know– no one told me–"

In his fading vision, he saw Potter's sharp white grin widen. "That's no excuse for negligence, Draco."

And then everything went black.

oOo

Harry looked down at the unconscious blond with satisfaction. The large red handprint across Malfoy's jugular was particularly gratifying. A small hand slipped into his, and he looked down at Theo. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

Theo smiled up at him. "Of course I am, now that my Golden Boy is here."


	43. Part II: XXX

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing (must have at least one Slytherin in it) and I'll write it.

For metacognitive, who wanted: Snape/Bellatrix, commitment [to Dark Lord]. Hope you like it, Lili!

**WARNING: **

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XXX_

He stumbled into his darkened room, bile threatening to rise in his throat. The door clicked shut behind him, and he slumped against it, letting the solid wood hold up his shuddering form. He rubbed his pale face with a sweaty hand and...froze.

"Hello, Severus."

"Bellatrix," he acknowledged with a sneering nod. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

She sauntered towards him with a coy smile on her face. "Our Lord wanted me to check up on you, darling. He seemed to think that you were a wee bit shaken by tonight's festivities. I reassured him that you were fine, but he sent me just to make sure."

Severus instinctively straightened as she ran sharp fingernails down his chest. He said coolly, "I regret to inform you that your duty is unnecessary. I have never been better. I apologise for taking up your time, madam."

She gave him a sultry grin and cooed in his ear, "That relieves me greatly, Severus. I'm sure our Lord will be so pleased that you haven't lost your nerve. So I may reassure him that your commitment is still strong?"

He stared down at her and felt the phantom touch of a wand in his side. In a steady voice, he replied, "It is as unwavering as always."

Bellatrix darted forward to lightly kiss his cheek, and cried, "Marvellous! I'll be off, then! I shall see you next week at the gala, I expect. Farewell until then, Severus!"

She swept out of the room in a swirl of robes and overpowering scents. The door slammed, and he slid to the ground, trembling hands reaching up to cover his face.

What had he done?

oOo

A/N: This is set roughly two hours after Severus's first kill (his initiation to the Death Eaters).


	44. Part II: XXXI

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing (must have at least one Slytherin in it) and I'll write it.

For Nocturnal Smile, who wanted: I haven't seen any DracoxLuna for a while, how about a bit of time after the war she helps improve his view on life through her sheer insanity?

**Warning: angst, language**

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XXXI_

He stares bitterly out at the bleak grounds, wind whipping at his slightly greasy hair. He absentmindedly adjusts the scarf that keeps falling off his meagre frame and hopes that the gusts of air are loud enough to hide him from his echoing thoughts.

"They're not, you know."

He sighs expressively, though not as impressively as he did before the war. Nothing is as impressive as it was before the war, he supposes. "Lovegood," he says curtly. "I'm not going to even pretend to understand how you know what I'm thinking."

Wild blonde hair swirls at the edge of his vision, and he ignores the reflexes of his traitorous body, shuffling him towards her.

She whispers conspiratorially, "It's the Nargles. I've infested your brain with them, and now I can hear every single thought you've ever made."

_Fuck off_, he screams silently, and grimaces when he can practically _feel_ her beaming at his shoulder.

"Shan't," she sings, and he groans and cradles his head in heavy woollen gloves.

Frustrated, he turns for the first time and glares at her. "What can I do to make you leave?"

She smiles at him softly, and he ignores the way his breath catches in his throat. "Haven't you figured it out yet, silly boy? Why I won't ever leave?"

Distracted by bulging washed-out blue eyes that shouldn't be attractive but somehow are, he mutters, "Why won't you, then?"

She places her tiny palm gently against his cheek, and he feels the skin warm almost magically beneath her touch. She breathes, "I make you feel alive."

He pulls back sharply, shocked but not surprised. It clicks, somewhere in his chest, that this insane little girl smoothes out all his rough edges and makes them fit together once again. Just for a little while, when they're together, he doesn't feel quite as broken.

Reaching out almost blindly, he gathers her to him, and their foreheads bump in the frosty air. He gazes past snow-dusted eyelashes to dilated irises, and asks quietly, "What do I make you feel?"

She smiles, uncoils languidly, and with a brush of cold noses, replies, "Thirsty."

He blinks. Quirks an eyebrow. Exclaims, "The feck, Lovegood?"

She laughs and grabs his hand, tugging him away from the tower's edge. "You've always told me I was mad, Draco; why should this instance be any different?"

He shakes his head wryly, but allows her to tow him back into the flickering light of the castle. She chatters on about this and that, and he doesn't hide the fact that he's completely ignoring her.

But in the moments that she doesn't happily glance at him, he lets a small, secret smile slip from his lips.

He's never felt more alive.

oOo

A/N: -blinks- I wasn't expecting that to turn out to be a flangst fest, but I rather liked the result. And cheers for present tense. ^-^


	45. Part II: XXXII

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing (must have at least one Slytherin in it) and I'll write it.

For CuteLikeMomiji, who wanted: Salazar Slytherin/Lee Jordan with the prompt being "flamingos"

**WARNING: slash, flangst, crap humour **

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XXXII_

Salazar stares in a bored manner at the birds. By no means is he, one of the four great Founders of Hogwarts, pouting. His bottom lip may be curled up into a moue, but that means nothing. He is merely gazing out into the distance, as tranquil as the earth itself, as unmoveable as a mountain—

He jerks forward rapidly as the teenager holding his hand says excitedly, "Let's get a closer look, 'Zar!"

He may be pouting just a bit.

Sighing, he allows the lad to tug him towards the exhibit. "Why must we see these confounded creatures?"

Lee replies sharply over his shoulder, "There's no need to be pissy about it. I told you we'd go to the reptile house after we saw the flamingos. Just five minutes, 'Zar, please."

Of course he gives in. Who wouldn't, in the face of those large brown eyes and gently squeezing hand? He steps up warily to the fence and gazes in disgust down at the preening birds. One of them shites whilst glaring at him. He doesn't like birds, he decides. Especially ravens. And _flamingos. _

Lee chatters on happily, "D'you know why they're pink? I do; it's 'cos of the food they eat! Like prawns and algae—"

Salazar snorts. "_Fascinating._"

He feels Lee's grip on him loosen slightly, doesn't even have to imagine the hurt tone that the lad will use when he says, "Let's just go back to Hogwarts."

The downtrodden teenager brushes passed him, plodding steadily towards the entrance when Salazar catches up with him. He runs his fingers soothingly up and down rigid arms and rests his chin on an angular shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he says softly, and wraps Lee into a gentle hug. He presses a small kiss into the groove of Lee's collarbone. The body he clings firmly to slowly loses its tension, and a familiar hand sneaks its way into his.

Lee grins. "Oi; don't start groping me in public, you old lecher."

Salazar straightens indignantly. "Pardon? There has never been an instance in my life that I have been anything less than a gentleman."

He does _not_ hear Lee mutter, "Don't I know it."

Just like he is not pouting. Again.

Lee turns around and places a hand on the middle of his chest; Salazar gives him a Look, complete with single eyebrow raised.

Lee explains mischievously, "You're a thousand-some-odd-year-old man dating a seventeen-year-old. I think that gives me ample cause to call you a lecher."

Salazar grins sardonically. "And you're a seventeen-year-old dating a thousand-some-odd-year-old man. What does that make _you_?"

A flush tints Lee's face as he gazes out on the grounds of the Edinburgh Zoo. "Lucky," he quietly replies.

He is not smiling like a schoolboy on his first date, no. Not one of the great Founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Instead, he stares impassively at Lee and says gravely, "Let us visit the reptile house."

oOo

A/N: (continuing from last sentence): Which is now _closed_ because of the fecking chimpanzee exhibit! Although it wouldn't have been in 1996, so that fact is irrelevant. But still irksome, nonetheless.

And, look! It's not crack! –preens- I truly am amazing, aren't I? XD

Also, a bit of background info that I may someday make into a full-length story: Salazar isn't actually a thousand years old. He's a bit over forty, and appeared in the midst of Fred and George's Portable Swamp (during Umbridge's reign of terror in Year Five) right next to Lee Jordan. For reasons yet unexplained to the readers (_you_ lot), he will stay in the present for the...present (lame humour is marvellous).

This will probably become a real story, because this pairing greatly intrigues me. Thank you, CuteLikeMomiji for the awesome prompt!


	46. Part II: XXXIII

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing (must have at least one Slytherin in it) and I'll write it.

For Kamerreon, who wanted: Harry/Blaise/Colin, with Harry and Blaise being really possessive/protective of Colin.

**WARNING: threesome, language, some flangst**

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XXXIII_

Colin stretched out over the ledge and tried not to look at the ground seven floors below. He reached for the little bunting nest that was hanging from the edge of the parapet. It must've blown in from the Forbidden Forest during the horrific storm last night; miraculously, it looked like all the eggs were unharmed. He thought to himself how lucky it was that he happened to be up here taking pictures of the setting sun.

Cursing quietly, he shuffled a little closer to the drop, bemoaning the fact that he wasn't just a _little_ bit taller. He was so close that he could almost touch the twigs—his fingers brushed the twigs—then he stumbled on a piece of loose rock and found his upper torso falling through open air—he closed his eyes to avoid seeing the grounds rush up to meet him—

"_Accio Colin Creevey!_"

He was tugged upwards sharply and flew backwards, landing between two solid bodies on the floor of the tower. Two pairs of arms held him tightly, one running over his body anxiously, as if to ascertain that no body parts had gone missing during the fall. He opened his eyes hesitantly, and found himself staring up at one furious Harry Potter. Seeing that, he knew the person breathing hotly on the back of his neck was Blaise Zabini.

Shite. He was screwed.

oOo

"Do you understand how this looks?" Harry demanded. "Seeing your dot halfway between the Astronomy Tower and the ground? Do you know how that makes us feel? Colin, I understand that you still need a bit of time to adjust to the idea of both Blaise and I courting you, but try to have a bit of consideration for _our _feelings!"

He stared ashamedly at the two strong pairs of hands surrounding his waist, and asked quietly, "Do you really…care for me that much?"

Blaise groaned, pulled Colin to him, and thrust gently once. Colin gasped at the hardness pressing against his backside. "We care for you _so_ much more than we've let you know, because we didn't want to frighten you. Colin, do you feel this? I become this hard every time you walk into the room; hell, I become this hard every time someone mentions your name! We want you so much, Colin. So much."

Harry grasped his chin gently, and forced him to look into shining green eyes. "But we don't just want you for your body, Colin. That's why we were so afraid when we saw you on the edge of the Astronomy Tower. If you need more time to wrap your mind around the way we feel about you, that's fine; all I ask is that you try not to put yourself in potentially dangerous situations. Please, for us."

Blaise growled, "We already worry enough about you; there's far too many people who want to take advantage of your innocence and corrupt you. Do me a favour; while you're staying out of dangerous situations, also stay away from Finch-Fletchley. Bloody lecher, that one is. Keeps staring at you with his beady little eyes like he wants to paw you in the middle of the Great Hall. Makes me want to rip him to shreds."

Colin shuddered a little at the force of emotion in Blaise's voice, and he looked away from Harry. It was too much, the feeling of relief at being alive, guilt for worrying them, awe at the fact that they really did want, relief again that they weren't just trying to mess with him (the reason he originally resisted the Courting), and the overwhelming feeling of love surrounding him.

It was too much for him to speak out loud, too many sentiments he didn't know how to express verbally, so he laid his cheek on Blaise's broad chest, and clasped one of Harry's hands with his one.

From the collective sigh of happiness and the tightening of the arms around him, Colin knew that they understood what he meant.

Perhaps this Courting thing could work out after all.


	47. Part II: XXXIV

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing (must have at least one Slytherin in it) and I'll write it.

Pairing: Male/Luna Lovegood. You can assume it's Harry, because I did when I was writing it. ;) Oh, dear. I suppose I wrote this for someone but I can no longer remember who it was. I'm terribly sorry.

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XXXIV_

He twirls her around until she is breathless with mirth. Their noses bump in the cold as she wraps her fragile arms around his neck. His glasses are fogged up by their ragged breathing and puffs of laughter.

He sings to her quietly, nonsensically, "Luna-lune, I wanna take you to the moon."

She smiles up at him. "You'll have to do a great deal better than that. The moon is quite boring this time of year."

oOo

A/N: I WROTE SOMETHING! ...actually I'm a horrid liar and I just found this on my computer. But I am in the spirit of writing and suchness! So I will go through the reviews and get to your ideas as soon as possible, my lovelies!


	48. Part II: XXXV

A/N: Part II is fanon, so give me a prompt and a pairing (must have at least one Slytherin in it) and I'll write it.

Pairing: Goyle/Lavender pairing with the prompt consequences.

A/N: For dimpleddemon

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XXXV_

She knew that there would be consequences for her actions.

Taking up with a Slytherin as a Gryffindor was bad enough in any era, but taking up with a Death Eater's son in the war to end all wars was like signing her own death sentence.

She knew that many people would turn their backs on her and deny that they ever knew her. She knew some people would say that she didn't deserve to be sorted into Gryffindor. She knew some people would say she deserved to fall from that balcony.

But she couldn't bring herself to care.

He was the only one that looked at her with the same eyes after Fenrir attacked her. He was the only one that told her what she truly longed to hear.

That she was still beautiful.


	49. Part II: XXXVI

A/N: For Mazabm.

If Wishes Were Bowtruckles

_Part II: XXXVI_

Pansy hated Weasleys.

It wasn't for the reason that her father assumed, that they were blood-traitors, or why Blaise thought she did, that they were Gryffindors.

It was the freckles.

They were hideous. They marred an entire family of what would otherwise be perfectly lovely children. Perfectly lovely men.

The freckles made the entire family imperfect. Like her.

Pansy hated Weasleys because every time she looked at one, she thought of Draco, and the night that she thought would be the best one of her life.

"_Pans, honestly you might as well date the Weasel. You're both hideous. I honored you tonight with my presence, but don't think it will ever happen again. As if you could ever be perfect enough for me." _

She knew she would never be good enough for Draco. But she never stopped trying.

oOo

She gazed up at the scarlet steam engine and let a wish float away with its smoke. _Please let someone notice me_.

She had finally convinced her mother, after six years, that a bob was not the most flattering haircut for the shape of her face. Her long dark hair whipped around her shoulders as she took a deep breath and stepped onto the Express.

The first compartment she walked past was the only one that she would walk past. A whistle rang out from its depths, and someone exclaimed, "Bloody hell, Parkinson's gorgeous!"

It was the Weasel, his long, lean body lounging across a seat. His freckles burned into her eyes as a blush rose in her cheeks.

He stood up to tower over her and moved toward the door. Suddenly, she couldn't see freckles anymore. There were only blue eyes cutting into her soul. She hurt so wonderfully.

He said softly, "Are you alright, Parkinson?"

Behind her, Draco drawled, "Obviously not, Weasel. Come away, Pansy."

She stared up at Weasley. He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"I said come _away_, Pansy."

Pansy reached up an absent-minded hand to stroke those beautiful freckles, ignoring the gasps around her. Weasley leaned into her hand.

She said, "Bugger off, Draco," and walked into the compartment.

It was gorgeous.


End file.
